Dr Chloe Beale
by BBLeviosa
Summary: Beca Mitchell wanted to do something with her life. At the age of 28, Beca's not doing anything she wanted and needs to deal with many different emotions. Dr. Beale is there to help her get through those difficult feelings. Bechole AU. Anxiety attacks/Slowburn.
1. Meeting Dr Beale

The street stretched in the middle of old houses and recent buildings. Cars and people were going from one place to another. No one seemed to care about anything. It was just a regular day.

Beca's eyelids were already heavy when she decided to turn off her computer. She shook her head from one side to the other, waiting to hear a click on her neck. It was one of her greatest pleasures at the end of a day's work. There was just one thing better than that: taking off her heels and tuck them into her backpack. She got up quickly and turned off the office light, locking the door in a move she could do with her eyes closed. After coming down the stairs, finally reaching the street, she rubbed her eyes for a few seconds as she tried to breathe in some fresh air. She coughed when an old man passed by smoking a cigarette.

As she got home, she greeted one of her neighbours and went to the mailbox. New bills to pay. "Fucking awesome", she thought. It was almost as exciting as sticking a needle into her pinky finger. She entered the elevator and pressed the button for the 3rd floor.

An hour later she was already in front of the tv with a plate of food on the coffee table. It wasn't a gourmet meal, but it was the house specialty: mac and cheese. She was watching the news when her phone came to life.

"Hello? Hi dad. Yeah, I'm alright. I'm having dinner right now. The usual. No dad, I didn't schedule anything yet, I've been kinda of busy. I'll do it eventually, don't worry so much. Okay. Bye."

She had completely forgotten to look for the psychologist's name. Another useless way to spend money she didn't have. However, as she looked at the box of pills laying on the table, Beca couldn't help wondering how good it would feel not to be stuck with them. One in the morning and another one at night to calm down her anxiety.

Beca's dad had given her a list of many psychologists. She thought about choosing someone randomly. The mere fact that she had to choose one of them already made her anxious. She looked at the time and noticed that it was past eight o'clock. She would make the call tomorrow.

Eight am. Still to early to call one of the psychologists. Maybe her anxiety could be temporary. During the day there was no problem; she was busy with other people. It seemed normal. It was only at night, alone in her tiny apartment, that Beca despaired. If she had a boyfriend, maybe it would all be easier. Doing it seemed almost as bad as going to the doctor and asking him to increase the dose of anxiolytics. It wasn't a good solution. In fact, it wasn't a solution at all because it wouldn't solve anything.

It was time for Beca's lunch break. She went down the stairs and as soon as she reached the street, Beca entered a small restaurant further ahead. She asked for a meal and ate it quickly. After getting some coffee into her system, she checked her phone for new emails. In addition to a paper with the name of all the psychologists, her dad had sent her the list by email with the message: "since you're always stuck on the computer and you never know where you put your papers, here's the list. No excuses, Beca. " She picked one of the numbers at random and dialed it.

"Hello? I'm calling to schedule an appointment with Dr. Beale."

"Okay, when are you free?"

"As soon as possible. I'm working 'til six, could we schedule it for 6.30pm?"

"Of course, do you know how to get here?"

"Yeah, I've got the adress. I'll leave work earlier just in case."

"Okay. See you later then".

"Thank you."

Knowing that she had the appointment at the end of the day made time go by slowly. The calls were more annoying, lots of unfriendly clients... Five minutes before six o'clock, she left work and made her way to the psychologist's office. Reaching the building, Beca found the door open. She entered a small room with a few plants scattered across several pots, an open window and no reception desk.

At 6:30 sharp, one of the oak doors opened and a woman came into the room. She had red hair, really blue eyes, and a mysterious smile on her lightly painted lips. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt that stretched to her knees and a blue tank top. She approached Beca.

"I assume you're here for my 6.30 appointment. I was having lunching when you called and I completely forgot to ask your name. I'm really sorry." her voice was smooth. Beca got a little distracted and took some time to answer.

"Sorry, I should've guessed you'd be having lunch. I'm Beca Mitchell." Beca held out her hand and the woman shook it.

"I'm Chloe Beale." said the woman, with a smile.

"Nice to meet you, doc."

"Likewise. Shall we start?" Beca nodded and followed the doctor. She was expecting something different. She had imagined an armchair and a couch. The office looked like a living room. It was cozy. It had two armchairs and a three-seater sofa. There were bookshelves around them full of books: "Pride and Prejudice," "Little Women," and, to her surprise, the entire Harry Potter collection. While Beca was studying the room, the doctor had already entered and was sitting in one of the armchairs.

"Er... Where should I sit?" asked Beca.

"Wherever you want".

"Aren't you going to write something in a notepad?" the patient inquired again, remembering all the psychology questions she had seen in movies.

"Should I?" asked the doctor frowning.

"I don't know, isn't that what psychologists do?"

"That depends. But don't worry about it. You don't have to analyze me, I'll do it, supposedly."

"Yeah, sure. So… How does this work?" Beca asked in an attempt to start as fast as she could.

"I want you to start by telling me a little about yourself. Whatever you want to tell me". The doctor was smiling again.

"Okay. Like I told you, I'm Beca. I'm 28. I work as an assistant in a Call Center. I have a degree in Music. I have a cat and I live alone with him. I would like to get a new job related to the course I took. I would like to travel more..."

"Why aren't you doing exactly what you want?"

"Because nothing is so linear. Dreams often don't come true because they bump into reality." Beca said with a shrug.

"Can't you change that reality?"

"Maybe, I guess I'm scared of leaving everything behind. But that's not the reason why I'm here…" Beca got interrupted again.

"I know it sounds weird, but what I am asking you is important. I can' help you if I don't know anything about you." said Chloe, simply.

"Yeah, I suppose that's true. Well, I don't like my job, but it's safe. I can pay the bills. On the other hand, I rarely have time for other things. I'm usually so tired that I can't sleep or make new mixes."

"You mix music?"

"Yeah, I've been doing it since I was seventeen."

"What's so interesting about it?"

"What can I say? Music makes me feel better" said the young woman.

"It's a really good way to express your emotions, to tell things you wouldn't say otherwise, right?"

"Exactly. You like music?"

"Have I been living under a rock? Of course!" said Chloe with a smile.

"Good to know I'm not that crazy".

"What is your idea of crazy?"

"I don't know" said Beca. "Being different from the rest? Not fitting into the normality of everyday life and things? I don't know."

"What is your normality?"

"Getting up, eating breakfast, running to work, sitting in front of the computer, talking to people I don't know about things I don't care about, going to lunch, getting back to work, talking to more people I don't know, leaving work, going home, taking a shower, having some dinner, feeding the cat and going to sleep. Rinse and repeat." she said, rolling her eyes.

"And have you done all of this lately?"

"Yep."

"What happened in between that made you come here?"

"There are some more things that have been part of this routine for some time now."

"Tell me about it"

"My doctor told me I have anxiety. I thought he was crazy because it's normal for people to have anxiety. Apparently I have anxiety attacks, for no apparent reason. I take some pills and I try to distract myself."

"But it's not working, right?"

"It's not working. When I'm alone my head gets filled with useless things and I can't do anything else."

"What useless things?"

"Fear."

"If anxiety is normal in anyone's life, so is fear."

"Yeah, it's normal. But thinking too much about these things… That can't be normal."

"Keep going" Chloe was still not taking any notes. She kept looking at Beca, encouraging her to keep talking.

"I'm always thinking about the end of things."

"Death, I presume?"

"Yes. I can't explain it well."

"And when did these thoughts begin?"

"Reading the newspaper, reading terrible news and thinking about how it's possible to do certain things and how everything seems not to have a purpose, a reason ... I don't know. It seems like everything happens too soon and I'm afraid it happens to me. It's selfish of me, I know ..."

"Selfishness in life is also necessary. I don't think you're being selfish. I see that you are concerned with the facts. Knowledge. It's important to you. Understanding why things happen. Like you said, things aren't so linear. People devalue their experience too much and forget that knowledge, books, studies, whatever they want to call them, exist only because someone has experienced them."

"We shouldn't try everything"

"How do you know that?"

"Because there's evidence ..."

"Did you find it?"

"Someone tried it."

"Exactly. I am not presenting you with a solution to your problem. I'm just trying to get to the bottom of things. I'm trying to understand the problem."

"It's okay. I trust you." Beca was surprised by her own words. She barely knew the woman.

"What scares you the most when you have those thoughts?"

"Consciousness and, at the same time, unconsciousness. The person who is dying and is aware of it or the person who isn't aware of it."

"And what do you do when you start thinking about it?"

"I don't do anything. I feel trapped and scared. Suddenly I have symptoms of twenty different diseases, I think of all the possible and imaginary scenarios. I just get scared."

"And you feel better when you take the pills?"

"I feel ... I feel numb. I still think about the same things, but the pills numb the reactions of my body. In the end, they don't solve anything."

"I'm not going to ask you to stop taking the pills. At least for now. Do you like to write?"

"Just lyrics. It's easier for me."

"I want you to do it then"

"What? Will I have to show you the lyrics?"

"No, you won't show me anything. Write what you are thinking and keep it to yourself."

"And you think it will help me?"

"Let's try. It can't hurt, right?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"So, will you be back next week, same time?"

"Yeah, that works for me."

"Besides writing, I want you to go out and be with your friends and your family. Don't spend so much time alone."

"I'll try."

"But try not to leave your cat alone. Animals also need companionship." Beca laughed for the first time. She nodded and got up from the chair with a smile. The doctor followed her to the door and said goodbye. Beca adjusted her backpack as she headed for the exit. As soon as she got outside, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

"Hi dad, it's me. Can I have dinner with you tomorrow? No dad, I'm not trying to replace Sunday lunch. I'm offering you the chance to have dinner with your badass daughter tomorrow and a Sunday lunch. Yeah, I'll be there. Bye, dad".

* * *

A/N: As you may have noticed, English isn't my native language. If you find any really bad mistakes, just point them out to me so I can correct them. It's my first time writing a Bechloe fanfic. I'm not a psychologist, this is loosely based on my own experience with anxiety and some things my doctor told me during our appointments. It will be a AU fanfic, but in the next chapters you'll be able to notice Beca's sarcastic side, so you've got that, at least.


	2. Freaking great

"Hello Beca. How have you been?" It was Beca's third visit to Dr. Beale's office. They always started the same way, Chloe asking Beca about her past week.

"Hm, I've been well, thank you. And you? Beca replied.

"Me too, thank you for asking." The doctor shook her shoulders and smiled.

"I've wanted to ask you something." began Beca, timidly.

"Go ahead, I'll try my best to answer you."

"At the first appointment, you said that in order for you to help me, you had to know a little bit about me. Maybe I need to know a little bit about you so you can really help me."

"That's a good point of view. It's an unusual request, but it's fair."

"Feel free to start whenever you want, Doc." said Beca, her hands outstretched in front of her. Chloe straightened her hair and cleared her throat before starting.

"Very well. My name is Chloe Beale, as you already know."

"Keep going."

"Amazing, in just three weeks we've swapped places." commented the psychologist. Beca squirmed in her chair before apologizing.

"Sorry, I was just kidding, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry. It may seem that I have no sense of humor, but that's not true. Continuing, I graduated in Psychology and I'm currently trying to finish my PhD."

"At your age? Is it possible?"

"I don't recall telling you how old I am."

"You didn't, Doc. But I don't think you're much older than me. And if you are… Well, it certainly doesn't look like it." Chloe blushed and cleared her throat again.

"I'm an only child, I have a dog and I've just realized that my biography would be extremely boring."

"You have a sense of humor, that's something."

"I see how having a sense of humor is something you care about."

"Yeah, I like to make jokes, even though most of them are awful. Even my dad doesn't find them funny. If a parent doesn't find it funny, it's because the joke is really bad."

"And you use humor as a defense mechanism in new or uncomfortable situations?"

"Maybe, but it's random. I'm not actually thinking 'oh well, I'm feeling very uncomfortable, I'll just throw a joke out there.' It's something I do naturally. I'm starting to think it's not very normal for a good-humored person to have the problem I have, right?"

"You're very wrong. It's very common. People with a sense of humor, especially those who make jokes, are creative people. Creativity demands that we think. And when they find a situation that they can't deal with through jokes, things get complicated."

"That's freaking great!"

"Sarcasm. Another humorous tool."

"Do you always talk like that on a day-to-day basis or is it only when you're at the office?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're very careful with the way you speak, using really weird words and stuff."

"The English language is so rich, why should we always stick to the same words? It's boring to say the same things all the time, don't you think?"

"Almost as boring as always having the same dark thoughts."

"Yes. Have you wrote anything this week?"

"Yep. I realized that using abbreviations at work is making my writing terrible. But luckily there is Google. And the dictionaries, of course."

"And you felt better after writing?"

"A little more relieved."

"That's nice. Have you been spending time with your friends and your family?"

"Yeah, my dad was really surprised with me showing up so much around the house."

"And have you told him why?"

"Yeah, he asked me the first day I went to dinner. But it's also something I should have never stopped doing. You promoted family cohesion. I wanted so much to become independent that I forgot that our true home is always close to those who like us. Even if it means spending a lot of time with my stepmonster."

"Wise words."

"I have my moments of brilliance."

"I see that I have to start taking notes."

"To point out my problems?"

"No, to point out your moments of brilliance." Beca laughed. Chloe winked at her.

"Very well. The secret of a joke is the perfect timing."

"Well ... We've been talking about the pills, we've talked about your job and your colleagues. What else have you done to fight the anxiety attacks?"

"Very unhealthy things."

"Cigarettes?"

"Yes, two or three cigarettes a day. And this is the moment when you tell me all about the harms of smoking and a lot of other things I already know but I choose not to think about, right?"

"We all have our addictions, our guilty pleasures."

"I agree. Aside from cigarettes I also listen to Michael Bolton very often for someone my age. Worse than that, just smoking while you're on the pill." This time, Chloe laughed. It was genuine, her eyes filled up with tears and Beca became entranced with the whole image. After almost a minute of laughter, the doctor took a deep breath and looked at Beca with a smile.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't stop it."

"No, I'm sorry. My dad is always telling me I should take things more seriously, that I can be very inopportune. But he should say the same thing to Sheila when she wakes him up at eight in the morning with the vacuum cleaner and while listening to 'When a man loves a woman.' And my dad still wonders why I moved out." Chloe laughed again.

"Moving on to more serious issues, I think I don't do anything else. I haven't been drinking, partly because I haven't been spending a lot of time with Amy."

"Do you feel more relaxed when you smoke?"

"I don't even know, honestly. Maybe."

"When was the last time you had an anxiety attack?"

"I'm always having mini anxiety attacks. But the last serious one was when I had to go to Canada with my boss a few months ago. We had to take a plane and I must admit, I'm not a big fan of planes. I was sitting near the window, it wasn't my first plane trip, but it seemed like it. Then my chest started to burn and I kept thinking 'holy crap, I'm having a heart attack'. At that point I just remembered that I was in a really bad place to have such a thing. I took a deep breath, I tried to think about nice things and it went away, eventually."

"What did you start to think about?"

"My mom." Beca stated, shrugging her shoulders.

"You haven't talked much about your mother."

"I don't spend much time with her, she lives across the country. But I thought about her because she heals everything, you know? I always feel at home with her, even if we're staying at a crappy hotel room. I imagined my mom beside me, holding my hand."

"Your anxiety attacks started after you went to live alone, right?"

"Kinda of. Not immediately. I've been living alone for about two years. But I never had this when I lived with my dad."

"We can test this hypothesis. Could you spend some nights at your dad's?"

"You're worse than my 9th grade math teacher."

"I'm sorry for bringing you bad memories."

"No problem."

"Oh, and take your cat with you, obviously."

"Of course. Separating myself from Marty would be just as bad as separating me from my eyebrows."

"Marty?"

"I don't know if you're familiar with popular culture. It's from my favorite movie ..."

"Back to the future?" Chloe guessed. It was one of her favorite movies too.

"Okay, you're familiar with it."

"Again, have I been living under a rock?"

"Sorry. Well, my dad will think it's really weird that I'm moving in with him again. And Sheila will be really pleased with it and she will try to get closer to me, trying to become my best friend or whatever. And now you're under the impression that my family is completely dysfunctional."

"We can scheduled a group session."

"For your own good, I hope you're kidding."

"Who knows. So do it, a week at your dad's house. Keep writing. Talk to your dad…"

"Yeah, living under the same roof and not talking to each other would be as weird as going for a swim at the beach and not wondering how many people have peed there before."

"Thank you so much for ruining the beach for me. I'm sure I'll remember what you said."

"By the way, I've been wanting to ask you. Why does the human being feel so good when they discover that there is another person who thinks in a similar way?"

"Relating with certain situations or feelings makes us feel less alone. The human being is social by nature."

"I'm not very human, then."

"There's nothing wrong with being satisfied that there are more people thinking like us."

"I thought I'd be admitting I was crazy as soon as I started coming here. Turns out, I'm a normal person."

"I really hope someday people will stop thinking that coming to a psychologist means they're crazy."

"You've made that idea go away with me. Just a few billion people to get through. You'll get there. I had no idea that a psychologist's appointment could be fun. Although the last two made me think that you wanted to get rid of me. They were very short."

"The appointment is whatever you want it to be Beca. It's important that you talk about what you want. I must admit, however, that my methods are not the most traditional ones."

"That's why you don't need a receptionist, I'm one of the few people showing up here?"

"My methods aren't traditional, but that doesn't make them ineffective."

"Touché. Speaking of which, you're always changing the subject when I try to pay for the appointments. You'd rather get the money at the end of the month, is that it?"

"It was a pro bono appointment."

"Psychologists do that as well?"

"I do it."

"Okay, the first one was free, but we have to talk about the next payments."

"No, everything is pro bono. My practice is not my only occupation. That is why it isn't open every day. You may have noticed that."

"I didn't, actually."

"I'm an assistant teacher at a college."

"If I may ask, how can you keep the office, your house ... All this with only the wages of an assistant teacher?"

"My house is paid for and so is this place. My parents have some money. As an only child, I was entitled to some luxuries. They gave me an apartment and my office."

"Would that money be enough for you not having to work at all?"

"Yes, although it never occurred to me. My parents have some money. They sacrificed their time and their health to get it. It wasn't luck, money didn't fall into their hands. They worked to get it. I accepted the apartment and the office because my parents insisted on it. But life would be so empty if I lived at the expense of my parents' work. So I was able to stay in college as a teacher and I've decided to open this practice and adopt this method of consultation."

"Wow, that's really noble of you. I don't know if I would do the same."

"It sounded reasonable to me. If I may share an opinion, people focus too much on money. When we have a job, the most important thing is time. It's not the money we get at the end of the month. Of course it matters, of course we can't live without money. However, on a job, we are leaving our time. Eight, nine, twelve hours. Hours that could be used to do something that makes us really happy. Being with our family, being with our friends, so many things. I know perfectly well that this opinion may seem absolutely ridiculous coming from someone whose parents have money. But I want to believe that I would think exactly the same way if my parents had less money. " Beca was suprised with Chloe's words. They actually made sense.

"You've got something pretty good. You do what you like and it also allows you to pay the bills. And yet you're not greedy. You could have two jobs and get money from both."

"As long as I have money for food, for paying the bills and taking my dog to the vet, I don't need much more."

"I guess the fact that you don't charge your patients doesn't work that well for you, right?"

"Yes, not charging money makes people think I'm not good at my job."

"Their loss. You're very good at your job, trust me." Chloe smiled and Beca could swear she saw the doctor's eyes glistening.

"Thank you, Beca."

"We get what we give. Am I coming back next week?"

"Yes, at the same time. And don't forget about what I asked you to do."

"If I look fatter next Thursday, it's your fault. Sheila cooks too well for her own good."

"I'm so sorry about that." Chloe said, not looking sorry at all.

"Sure you are".

* * *

As you may have noticed, I suck at dialogue. It happens the same when I write something in portuguese, so I guess the language isn't the issue here. Again, sorry for any mistakes you might find (you'll find them, obviously). Thank you to everyone who has started following this story. I'm won't post a new chapter everyday, but I will post at least once a week. Some other Pitch Perfect characters will make an appearence. I've mentioned Fat Amy, but in the next chapters you'll get to see some of the Bellas. Have a nice weekend.


	3. New identities

"How have you been, Beca?" Chloe asked, taking a seat in her usual place. Beca shrugged her shoulders.

"Much better. I'm still having crappy thoughts, but they aren't bothering me so much."

"And the other thing?"

"I've spent a lot of time with my dad. A lot. And I've been eating so much I think I'm gonna explode at any moment. Oh, and it was super funny having to sneak out so I could smoke a cigarette. But it'll remain my 'guilty pleasure'. At least for a little while."

"What do you mean?"

"At our last appointment, you said a few things that really spoke to me. I dunno. I need to get some control over my life. I'm thinking about quitting my job and giving music a second chance. Actually, give myself a second chance. That sounded poetic, I don't recognize myself aymore. But, since I have to spend my time to make money, at least I spend it doing something that I love and that makes me happy, right?" Chloe remained quiet for a while, like she was studying Beca.

"I'm speechless."

"Did I leave you speechless? But the English language has so many words! We need to report this to someone, it's outraging." Beca said, raising her hands.

"I'm starting to feel like you're helping yourself."

"I don't think you got what I said, doc. You gave me the speech, a really impressive one. You're helping me."

"It was out of context."

"I just gave myself the freedom to give it a context that suited me. It was your help."

"I'm really happy for you, Beca. I hope everything works out."

"Me too. But I've already asked Lily for some favors. Vodoo and other things. Just to be sure, you know?"

"I'm speechless again."

"Twice in a row? I'm on a roll!"

"Congratulations. It doesn't happen very often."

"I believe you, doc. At some point I thought you had eaten a dictionary. I was worried about your diet. Eating paper isn't healthy. I've learned it the hard way. And I'm pretty sure that you're on a very healthy diet."

"Is that so? Why?"

"Because you're in shape." said Beca, her face blushing a little bit.

"I'm pretty confident about all this." replied Chloe, wiggling her eyebrows.

"You should be and I'm not just kissing your ass."

"I guess we've established that."

"Please don't make everything so literal, doc. You're killing my sarcasm. You make me feel at ease, it's your fault. I talk to you like I'm talking to my best friend, if I had one."

"You don't?"

"Well, Amy doesn't count, she's crazy. Screw it, I guess she's my best friend. Everything I tell you is confidential, right? She must never know I just admitted she's my best friend. She talks about a lot of weird rituals best friends do in Australia. Probably it's all made up, but better to be safe than sorry."

"But you have more friends, right?"

"Not many, to be honest. Do you have a bff, doc?"

"Yes, her name is Aubrey. She doesn't sound nearly as interesting as your friend, but she's a really nice person when you get to know her."

"Any other friends?"

"Not many, actually. My social skills died when I graduated from college."

"How come?"

"Have we swapped places again, Beca?"

"Sorry."

"Just kidding. I don't know. I threw myself at work, I lost contact with a lot of people, I don't like to go out so much anymore."

"Oh, you were a party animal, weren't you?"

"I attended some parties, of course, but I wouldn't consider myself a party animal."

"I imagine it would be hard for you to go out. Lots of guys flirting with you."

"Yes, I had some boys trying to take me out, not as many as you may think. But it was easier back then, making friends, I mean. Now, not so much."

"If I may give you some advice, with all due respect, talking like you've just swallowed a dictionary doesn't help you getting friends. Did you always talk like that?"

"No, but I'm not saying anything else regarding this subject. But I'll take your advice. I'll try to say simpler words."

"Thank you. I'll no longer have to say I have a dictionary at my bedside table. Oh, and you should go out with me and my friends some day. That way you could do me a big favor and just tell me what the hell is going on with Amy and Lily. It's too weird."

"That may not be a good idea."

"Why?"

"People think I'm strange."

"How so?"

"Well, besides the way I speak, being a psychologist leads many people to think that I'm constantly analyzing what they say and what they do. And I'm too forward sometimes."

"How can anyone be too forward?"

"You don't want to find out."

"As a matter of fact, I really do."

"We should get back to your anxiety?"

"That creeper can wait. Come on, be forward with me. Say something about my looks, the way I dress, something".

"You've been warned. You wear too much black even if it suits you somehow. You have really beautiful eyes and I think the eyeliner suits you, but you should fix it during the day. When you get here from work, I always feel tempted to ask you if someone punched you in the eye. And your nails. You forgot to tell me that you chew your nails and that can be something related to anxiety. I would be anxious too if I chewed my nails considering the amount of germs that come into contact with our hands every day. Your shoelaces are always untied and I'm scared for you because, eventually, you'll trip and fall."

"Ouch."

"And that's why I don't have a very active social life. And I sounded just like Aubrey."

"My offer still stands."

"Some kind of cure for my poor social life? Or are you conducting a study?"

"Yes, get you out with a group of friends and see how you behave so we can handle your case. First I have to see if you're saying the truth."

"So you think I might be lying?"

"You know doc, I don't understand anything about psychology. But mothers can be excellent psychologists, even if they don't always realize it. My mom told me something very important when I was a teenager. At the time, of course, we are too stupid and immature to realize the importance of our parents' advice. Fortunately, we're able to give them value later."

"And what advice was that?"

"It wasn't a piece of advice. Doc, you've probably noticed that I like to give my own context to things. There was a day when I got home and I was really angry. Something happened to me at school, I don't remember what. My mom wanted to know what happened. I told her I felt like no one liked me or saw something useful in what I did or said. And my mom told me that all would be easier if I could see myself the way she saw me. Of course I didn't care about those words back then. I just wanted to stay in my bedroom, watching 'Friends" and eating gigantic amounts of popcorn. That's the thing about opinions. On one hand, we want our opinion to prevail, without caring about anyone's else opinion, and on the other hand, we still want to know what everybody else thinks of us."

"I couldn't have explained it better."

"That's why I said I didn't know if you were telling me the truth. You may think that you're socially awkward and that people think the same way. But, if you had the perception that other people have of you, maybe you'd find their opinion to be different from yours."

"It's plausible."

"That's why, and if you want to, you can take this as thank you for all your pro bono work. You help me with my anxiety attacks and I help you with your social skills. What do you say? I promise I won't take you to weird places."

"I don't know, it would be a little-"

"Again, I'm not kissing your ass. I will introduce you to some friends of mine. I feel kind of bad for taking up your time and not giving you anything in return. I already know that you value your time."

"Wouldn't your friends find it weird if you showed up with your psychologist?"

"If anything, you'll find it weird that I'm hanging out with those losers. But, you're not completely wrong. I will have to teach you an old game from my college years."

"What game?"

"Back in college we would go to many different places every weekend. Just to be safe and have some fun out of it, we would create different identities. We would keep our real names and everything else was made up."

"I don't remember that game."

"I remember going to a karaoke bar once and I was really shy about going on stage to sing. That night my name was still Beca, but I wasn't getting a music degree. Nope. I was being secretly trained by NASA to go on a mission to Mars."

"If I may ask, what was the point of creating an alternative life?"

"I dunno. Maybe because routine can get boring and once a week we had a chance to create a different life. I wasn't actually a different person, I just had another routine and new stories."

"I think that would be a good social experience."

"But you have to plan things right. Imagine that a guy shows up out of nowhere. You need to know your facs."

"So you're telling me that this creativity is also used for flirting?"

"Let's just say it's a side effect. What would be your alternative job? Oh, nothing that involves politics, religion, or sports. It's boring and nobody wants to know."

"Very well. How about being an actress?"

"Hm, it's dangerous. They will ask you for references. 'Have I seen you in some tv show? A movie?' Amy used it once and she actually got away with it. But it's still dangerous."

"Yes, it's understandable. A cop?"

"Already tried it. If you want to hear really bad pick up lines, be my guest. "

"This is more complicated than it sounds."

"Oh, don't be fooled. It's hard."

"No doubt. I think I already know."

"Introduce yourself."

"My name is Chloe, I'm a computer technician, I work in a small repair shop. I do software installations and hardware upgrades. I work from Monday to Friday, nine to five. On the side, I'm part of an acapella group, singing at weddings every other weekend."

"Why do I believe you really do all of that stuff?"

"Maybe I do. Was I convincing?"

"Yeah, I'm impressed. I think my friends would fall for it." Beca said with a smile.

* * *

Next chapter, they'll be out of the office and Chloe will get to know Beca's friends. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and I would like to think everyone that left a review. I know I apologize way too much about my mistakes, I'm a grammar nazi with portuguese, but I can't do the same with english. I won't apologize this time, at least. Thank you so much for your words and thank you to everyone that's following the story.


	4. Well educated girl

"Are you ready, Doc?" Beca asked, stepping out of the car.

"Yes, at least I think I am."

"You're nervous, aren't you?"

"I warned you, Beca. I don't do very well in social situatons. You'll realize I wasn't lying at all."

"I don't believe that. Come on, Doc, let's go inside. Just take a deep breath and remember your story. My friends won't be playing the game tonight, you'll be the only one."

"Oh, that's really reassuring."

"Leave the sarcasm to me, Doc, it doesn't suit you." They entered the bar and soon enough Beca spotted Amy, Lily, Cynthia-Rose and Jesse sitting in a secluded corner. She looked at Chloe one last time to reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

"So, how are you weirdos tonight?" Beca asked.

"I'm trying not to kill myself listening to Jesse talking about the new Star Wars movie" said Amy. Beca laughed and Jesse rolled his eyes.

"Well, I wanted to introduce you to my friend. This is Chloe. She is Sheila's friend. I mean, her mom is Sheila's friend. She's new in town, I'm showing her around."

"And now you've just made feel like a burden. It's nice to meet you all." said Chloe, flashing a smile at everyone.

"So, this is Amy." Beca said pointing at her friend.

"Hi Chloe. You can look at me for as long as you wish. I understand you aren't used to see so much sexyness in just one person." Beca rolled her eyes and moved on to her next friend.

"This is Lily." she came closer to Chloe and whispered her next words.

"Don't take her very seriously. She says a lot of weird stuff. And then you have Cynthia-Rose, we just call her CR, it's easier."

"Hello Chloe, if you ever need somebody else to show you around town, just give me a call."

"She won't, thank you for the offer, though. And finally, this is Jesse. He talks way too much about movies." Jesse gave her a nod while Chloe was trying to memorize all the names.

"So Chloe, tell us a little bit about you." said Jesse.

"My life is incredibly boring. I'm a computer technician. I work at a repair shop."

"Seriously? That wouldn't have been my guess." he looked genuinely surprised.

"What would it be?"

"I don't know. You look like a CEO for a big company."

"Really?"

"Yeah, people who work with computers are more laid back, they dress more casually. But it's just a thought. We don't judge anyone."

"I like to wear something different when I go out to forget I have to wear an awful uniform everyday."

"I get it. Has Beca been treating you well?"

"Yes. She is constantly making stuff up, she drives in a very weird way. But she has been treating well."

"Way to hurt a girl, Chloe."

"What hurts is having to push the car because you forgot to put gas in it."

"Really, Beca? Again? You have a problem." They all laughed at Beca.

"Shut up, dude." Beca said, with a pout.

"I like her, Beca. She has a sense of humor. It's a shame she has to spend so much time with you."

"Fuc..Screw you, CR".

"I will. I'm going to smoke a cigarette and I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you." Beca stared at Chloe. At first she thought the doctor was just trying to be nice. She only realized that the doctor was going to smoke too, when she saw her take a packet of cigarettes from her purse along with a lighter. Her astonishment didn't go unnoticed. Chloe leaned close to her and murmured in her ear:

"I don't listen to Michael Bolton, but I have my own guilty pleasures." Beca smiled as the doctor got up and disappeared behind CR in a blink of an eye.

"Why do I think Chloe isn't just the daughter of one of Sheila's friend?"

"What do you mean, Jesse?"

"I think there's more to it." he said, squeezing his eyes at Beca.

"There is nothing. We are friends. Actually, it's almost like we're cousins." said Beca, shrugging it off.

"Are you sure?" Jesse insisted.

"Yeah."

"Okay. CR will really enjoy the cigarette break."

"Why?"

"Chloe is cute. Not as cute as me, obviously. But still." said Amy.

"Does she really have to flirt with every girl she sees?"

"Did I touch a sensitive subject? Family protection?"

"No. But I don't think Chloe is interested in women. "

"That has never been a problem to CR."

"I know." said Beca with a frown. Amy raised her eyebrows exaggeratedly as she took another sip from her drink.

Beca was silent. Amy and Lily were talking about weird stuff while Jesse was watching something on his phone. Beca stared at the door, waiting to see Chloe reappear. Did it take so long for someone to smoke a cigarette? They should've been back by now. Had something happened? Maybe it was better to go outside just to make sure everything was okay. She could use the excuse that she wanted to smoke, too.

While Beca was thinking about a good excuse to go outside, she heard Chloe's laughter in the distance, accompanied by the low voice of CR. When they got to the table, the psychologist sat down next to Beca. Her cheeks were rosy, and a few strands of hair were out of place. She took a generous sip of her gin and crossed her legs gracefully.

Beca was peeling off the label from her beer bottle, abstracted from everything happening around her.

"Is everything okay, Beca?" Chloe asked. Beca shook her head as if she had just returned to reality.

"Yes, I'm okay."

"Really?" insisted the psychologist.

"Yeah."

"These social situations," Chloe started, lowering her voice, "do not make you anxious, do they?"

"No, there are few people today, you can still breathe in here. I'm not anxious." she replied with a shrug as she looked around. Chloe took Beca's hand in her own.

"Then why are you anxious?" The touch had baffled Beca. She stared at the doctor's delicate hand over her own, the contrast between the psychologist's neat nails and her own fingernails.

"Why do you think I'm anxious? I feel normal." said Beca trying to disguise her discomfort. "When I went outside, you were very happy, smiling. I came back and you're sitting here looking gloomy."

"Gloomy? What have we talked about? Simple words, Chloe." the doctor smiled when she saw Beca returning to normal.

"You're right, I forgot. It's good to see that your good mood has returned."

"The beer was warm, I hate it when it happens."

"Are you sure that was all? I've seen the way Jesse looks at you. Did he say something while I was out?"

"Dude, gross! I can't believe you just said that."

"What's the matter?"

"It's disgusting. Jesse has been my friend since high school. I would never fall in love with him. I can't even stress this enough. He's like a brother and I'm not a fan of incest, I can tell you that right away."

"I'm sorry then."

"I'll let it slide this time, but please don't ever say that again."

"Rest assured, I won't touch the subject again."

"Thank you, Doc."

"So, are you keeping secrets from the rest of the group?" interrupted Jess.

"No, I was just talking to Chloe about how fucking ugly you look today."

"You're lucky Chloe is a well educated person, otherwise you would get an answer without words, if you know what I mean." Chloe's attention was splitted between Beca and Jesse, trying to understand what he meant. Beca laughed along with the rest of the group. The psychologist only smiled, not understanding the joke.

"I think Red doesn't know what you mean, Jesse." Amy stated.

"Oh, Chloe you must do this every day when you get a crazy customer. Without them knowing, obviously. Right, Chloe? asked Jesse, taking a sip of his beer. Chloe looked at Beca almost in despair, not knowing what to do. Noticing the psychologist's panic, Beca put her hand close to her mouth and whispered something that went unnoticed to Chloe. But then the doctor noticed the middle finger of Beca's hand and came to a conclusion. She pointed her hand at Jesse and gave him the finger."

"I think you have the wrong idea about me being a well educated person." Beca stared at Chloe open-mouthed until she burst into laughter.

"That was hot." CR stated. Beca shot her a glance and Jesse left the table, going straight to the bar.

"I wasn't expecting you to actually giving him the finger." Beca admitted, still surprised.

"Why not?"

"I was just waiting for you to explain what it meant, not actually doing it."

"Was it too much?"

"Hell no. I wish I was recording it." Beca took another sip of her drink as she looked at the bar. Jesse was talking to a woman along with CR who had followed him saying she needed another drink. And suddenly the warm beer tasted slightly better.

A few hours later, the group decided to end the night. CR hurriedly said goodbye and went running to the woman she had been talking to. Lily, CR and Jesse said goodbye. They were sharing a cab.

"So, how did it go?"

"It was a pleasant evening, but the music was awful."

"I agree. But I think we have different musical tastes. I bet you wanted to hear Beethoven's symphonies or something." Beca guessed. Chloe smiled and shook her head.

"Not at all. I was hoping for some rock music."

"Rock?"

"Yes, maybe something from the 80's. Pink Floyd, Scorpions… It would've been nice." Beca was looking at the doctor as if she had just grown another head. "What?"

"Pink Floyd? Scorpions? You're full of secrets. And you have really good taste in music, by the way."

"Totes."

"What the hell was that?" asked Beca dramaticaly. "You know what? Have a good night, actually, have a good life." she turned her back on the psychologist who started laughing.

"I just kidding, Beca."

"There are things you don't joke about, Doctor Beale. English is one of them" Beca said, trying to keep a serious face. The psychologist half opened her mouth in surprise.

"You're not leaving me here alone, are you? We shared a ride in case you don't remember." Beca came back with a smile but became serious again.

"Never say 'totes' again, please. It almost gave me an anxiety attack."

"I'm not noticing signs of that." said Chloe, looking at Beca as if she was analyzing the young woman.

"I'm very good at hiding my anxiety attacks."

"I see that you are."

"Come on, let's go. As time goes by you're going to start saying a lot of weird words and I don't know if I can handle it."

"Don't worry, I'll go back to my usual language. You know, I was thinking-"

"Yeah..."

"I was thinking it would have been nice at some point in my life to have found someone like you."

"Someone to give you a ride?" Beca joked.

"No, someone I could talk to at ease without being afraid to make a joke and be misunderstood. Someone who is not afraid to make a joke about me, afraid I'll get offended. I don't know. A friend." the doctor confessed, and Beca couldn't help but notice some sadness in Chloe's eyes. She tried to comfort her.

"You know that from now on you're going to start going out with me more often, right? And even though I'm not as good at you at helping people, I want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, you can talk to me. I can even stop the jokes for a while."

"You haven't forgotten that I'm your psychologist, have you?"

"Of course not, but if you complain about not having friends, you can count on me if you ever need to."

"Thank you, I'm very touched by that, Beca."

"You're welcome. Soon enough, your social skills will improve and you'll have a lot of friends."

"I have my doubts."

"I don't." Beca said, honestly.

"Since we're talking more casually, would you be offended if I asked you a question?"

"Just say it, doc."

"How long has it been since you washed your car?"

"The car's clean." replied Beca. The psychologist frowned and looked at the back seats.

"There are three bags in the back full of trash, there are coffe cups in every corner of the car, the ashtray is full of cigarettes, and I won't even mention the amount of dust everywhere."

"It has a simple explanation. The trash, well, I just forgot to throw it away. Those cups represent my breakfast. The ashtray ... Okay, I have to empty it. As for the dust, I just have to vacuum it."

"Oh, if everything has a logical explanation, then the car is, in fact, clean."

"Exactly. You would get along beautifully with my step monster."

"Why?" Chloe asked.

"She doesn't understand my methods of organization and cleanliness." Beca explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't think anyone understands."

"Doc, you're familiar with the finger. Don't make me use it, please." Beca teased with a side glance.

"Okay, you win." said Chloe raising her hands in surrender.

Beca drove in silence for several minutes. She glanced at the doctor every now and then. Chloe was looking out the window and her face was intermittently lit by streetlights as the car moved.

"Are you thinking about life?" Beca asked after a while.

"Just enjoying the view."

"You know, driving at night helps me a lot when I'm having an anxiety attack." The doctor looked away from the window and focused her eyes on Beca.

"Because everything is quiet?" Chloe suggested.

"That too. I can't really explain it, honestly. But when I'm driving with the music really loud, I tend not to think about anything. I look at everything and think, 'This is nice, I could get some good photographs, the moon is particularly bright'. For a very brief moment I can allow myself to forget everything about my anxiety."

"It's a good way to deal with the problem."

"It helps, but I don't have money to drive around all the time. Plus, it isn't that good for the environment. I just want to be able to be at home, with my cat, watching "Friends" without having my head full of crappy things. Do you think I'll be able to do that again someday?"

"I think so."

"Anxiety sucks. It makes us want to things to happen fast in a very slow way."

"What do you mean?"

"We want to move quickly with the treatment so we can stop having anxiety attacks and most of the time we almost beg for things to move slowly, so that the heart doesn't beat too fast."

"I had never thought about that. But yes, that's a good observation."

"Just another moment of brilliance." Chloe smiled but said nothing. She looked back through the window and fell asleep a few minutes later. Beca turned off the radio. From time to time she glanced at the doctor. To her surprise, she noticed that Chloe had a small tattoo hidden behind her watch. She also noticed that the psychologist had taken off her shoes and was wearing a small bracelet around her ankle.

"She really is a mistery." Beca murmured, looking back at the road.

When they arrived at the psychologist's house, Beca pulled the car into the entrance gate and turned it off. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger-side door carefully. She put her hand on Chloe's right shoulder and shook it slowly.

"Doc?" Chloe opened her eyes and turned her head noticing where they were.

"Oh, I'm sorry Beca, I'm not used to staying up so late, I fell asleep. Was it easy to find the house?"

"I'm very good at finding things, it's a gift. Go to sleep, doc."

"Thank you for the ride, and thank you for what you said before we got into the car."

"Anything you need, doc."

"Thank you, Beca. Are you sure you're okay to go home alone? You won't fall asleep, right?"

"Don't worry. I'm used to it."

"When you get home, just text me, please."

"You'll be snoring by the time I get home."

"I don't snore." said Chloe looking offended.

"I strongly disagree."

"Seriously?!"

"Just kidding, doc. You don't snore. But if a text will make you feel more at ease, I'll send it to you."

"Thanks. Be careful and have a good night, Beca." Chloe said with a smile.

"You too, Doc."

* * *

No appointment this time. Chloe got to meet Beca's friends. I will develop them more in further chapters, don't worry. Their personalities won't be too alternative. Chloe said "totes" for the first time. I don't want the story to be completely alternative. But Chloe is still Beca's psychologist and she is a professional who's not willing to let her guard down so easily. Oh, by the way, nothing will happen between Chloe and CR. It was just a way to show Beca's jealous side even if she doesn't realize she's jealous. You'll understand a bit more about this later on.

Again, thank you for the reviews. Feel free to send me any suggestions or even corrections. I really hope you've enjoyed this different chapter.


	5. Heartbreaks (Part I)

"I'm almost sure you won't like what we're going to about today." Chloe began.

"Crap. You're going to make me relive my past, aren't you?" Beca asked with a forced sigh.

"A little, maybe."

"I'm getting zits just by thinking about it. What exactly do you wanna know? she asked, scratching her chin.

"I wanted to talk about your love life." Chloe explained. Beca just laughed.

"Let's do this: I'll go outside, buy a knife from some creepy dude and I'll let you stab me with it. It'll hurt me less."

"Many heartbreaks?" asked Chloe without hiding her tone of surprise.

"With myself." Beca nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"With yourself?"

"Doc, no one likes to talk about wrong choices, I think you'll agree with me."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean people shouldn't talk about them. Wrong choices teach us more than a right choice, as cliche as it may sound."

"You're worst than an undertaker, you just keep digging and digging."

"It's great to know that I have career options."

"Are you trying to steal my sarcasm? Again, it doesn't suit you." Beca deadpanned.

"You're already trying to deflect the subject. Tell me something."

"What do you really wanna know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me."

"Oh, but I don't want to tell you anything." Chloe frowned and crossed her legs. Beca knew they weren't joking anymore. - "Okay, I got it. Where do I start?"

"Usually, when you want to tell a story, you start at the beginning, for the purpose of good contextualization."

"Well, the first boy I liked was when I was eleven years old. He had classes next to me and I would spend a lot of time looking at him. I looked like a freakin' stalker. Until one day I decided to tell him about my feelings, but since I am very bad at talking, I decided to write him a love letter." Beca winced at her own words.

"And you signed it with your name?"

"Yes, I wanted him to know who I was, I just didn't have the guts to say it myself."

"Very well, keep going."

"I wrote him letters for months. It was one of the darkest periods of my life, now that I think about it. This went on, he kept changing girlfriends every week, until one day he caught me at the bus stop. I was alone, and so was he, and he sat next to me. He started talking, I was as red as your hair and I couldn't say more than two words. When his bus arrived, he kissed me on the cheek, stood up with a stupid grin on his face and left. And I just stood there, feeling silly, touching my face and thinking I wouldn't be able to wash it for the next few weeks."

"You know, I can hardly imagine you not knowing what to say."

"I always knew, since I was little. But when it comes to feelings, I suck at talking. I almost lost my voice."

"But it was a sweet moment. Except for the part where you didn't want to wash your face." Beca laughed and nodded.

"For the record, I washed my face that same day."

"I'm happy to know that you've put your personal hygiene first. So, how did this story go?"

"I kept writing him things until my sixth year. He never wrote anything back. He was always winking at my, smiling like a freakin' idiot- "

"You don't remember his name or you just don't want to say it?" interrupted Chloe. Beca rolled her eyes before replying:

"I still know his full name. I wish I had this memory capacity when I was in college. Tim."

"Okay, let's continue."

"Just to let you know, I'm praying for a meteor to destroy the whole planet right now. So, one day I get a note from Tim asking me if I wanted to be his secret girlfriend. I was really stupid back then and I said yes. He would tell me to meet him but he was like a celebrity, he always had a friend following him around. Sure, I wanted to be alone with him, but it never happened."

"And how did you continue to date?" asked the psychologist without hiding her curiosity.

"I don't know, but every time I asked him if we were still dating, he would say yes. Until our last day of school. I still remember", Beca commented while looking at the ceiling as if she was reliving the moment "I was leaving my classroom and talking to my friends, feeling really happy, anxious to go on vacation. As I get closer to the school entrance, I see him holding hands with a girl. My heart broke in a thousand pieces, it was very sad. It was like I was seeing everything in slow motion around me. I stopped liking him at that very moment. And I really hated the girl he was with. I remember trying to break her leg at soccer practice."

"Oh, I'm sorry your first love went away. And I'm slightly scared about the way you tried to hurt someone."

"Don't be. In fact, I should have suspected. He had a different girl every week. That's a huge red flag."

"Is it hard for you to talk about this?"

"Not hard, embarassing. I was scarred for life with it. I guess I still remember a lof of the details because we never forget our first love."

"And after Tim?"

"James."

"And what happened to James?"

"Rien de rien." Beca replied in a slightly strange French accent.

"Nothing?" Chloe repeated. Beca shook her head.

"Yep. I liked him for three years but he never liked me back."

"Three years?"

"Yeah. I also wrote him notes and letters, it's my modus operandi in the field of love. But he liked another girl. During summer break I was feeling so sad that I just kept eating. I gained 17 pounds. When I went back to school, my friends barely recognized me."

"You kept eating like that for a long time?"

"No. But I spent a lot of time listening to bad music and wearing really weird clothes. But then I forgot all about it and went back to normal."

"I'm happy for you. And after him?"

"Well, then I think it was the first time I really fell in love."

"It's getting more interesting."

"Don't forget you're not reading a novel, keep up the professionalism.", when Beca saw the worried look on Chloe's face, she rushed her next words "I'm joking, doc."

"But you're right."

"My love stories are so ridiculous that the least you can do to keep me from dying of embarassment is to laugh at them."

"I'll try."

"But don't force anything, if you don't find it funny, don't laugh."

"Trust me." assured the psychologist.

"Thanks. When I was a sophomore and I already had a phone and social networks and all that crap, I met a boy, Charlie. We spent months talking online and texting until we met in person. He was from a different school and we didn't live in the same city. I actually met him through Jesse. And I liked everything about him. He was funny, cute and he didn't care about the way I dressed or the way I talked. Deep down, I couldn't ask for more. We texted each other with lyrics from songs that somehow related to us. I wrote him letters and for the first time someone wrote me back. I saved them for a few years, until I decided to get rid of everything. But he had a big flaw. He was always giving me stuffed animals. Besides that, he was a good person."

"What happened?"

"We dated 'til I went to college. Then things changed."

"Did he also go to college?"

"No, he didn't graduate that same year. But I began to change a lot in college, so I started lying to him so he wouldn't know I was going out so much."

"Why? Was he jealous?"

"He was, but not crazy jealous. But he cared too much about me. He was always saving money so he could come see me, he was always asking a lot of questions about college and my friends. I would get really mad at him, but now that I look back I know that all he really wanted was for me to be okay. I know he wasn't trying to control me in any way."

"Then why did you lie to him?"

"Dunno, I was afraid he thought I didn't care about him anymore. And I had an awful personality at the time. I remember not talking to him for two straight days. I wouldn't text him back or answer his calls. And he was a genuinely good person."

"How did it end?"

"I guess I took him for granted. We decided to split up and it was the worst day of my life. I've never cried like that before. I remember calling Jesse, sobbing like a maniac. I couldn't even tell him what was wrong with me." said Beca with a sad smile.

"Did you ever try to make up with him?"

"Yeah. But I had done enough damage. Even I thought it was wrong to ask him for a second chance. But I still did it because I really loved him."

"Did you go back to being friends?" asked Chloe. Beca stared at her hands for a few seconds.

"No, I never heard from him again. It was something out of a movie or a book. I couldn't even say his name for a whole year. Do you know what was the last thing he told me?", Chloe shook her head. Beca gave her a sad smile. "'Maybe in another lifetime'. I would cry a lot, mostly when I got drunk. Amy's drinks really did a number on me. But, deep down, when everything went bad I didn't feel like myself anymore."

"So, you've never talked again or seen each other?"

"I never saw him again but we talked. Two years later I got an email. I burst into tears as soon as I saw his name. He was telling me about what he felt at the time we broke up. He wanted to get some closure, that despite everything we still had some good moments. Oh, and he said I was forgiven."

"Did that make you feel any better?"

"Not at all. I always thought I would feel relived, but I didn't. I was feeling miserable because he was showing me once again he was a nice guy. I was the one who ruined everything."

"I made you think about a sad subject, didn't I?"

"I was eighteen or nineteen years old when it happened. Since then I've been through a lot of things. Do you think this has anything to with my anxiety attacks?"

"Probably not. He got his closure regarding the issue and I think you got it as well."

"Awesome. We just have to rule out a few hundred things." Beca said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Are you talking about relationships?" Chloe guessed. Beca rolled her eyes again.

"No, doc. After Charlie I only dated twice."

"Let's hear it."

"Two years after Charlie, I fell in love with a boy from college. We dated for six months. When I told him about Chalie, he became a bit insecure and that really pissed me off. I don't usually date someone and think about a different person. And then I began to feel trapped. I broke up with him after a stupid argument. So stupid I can't even remember what it was about. I know where I was, the day it happened, but I can't remember what we were fighting about."

"Did regret it later?"

"Kinda. He tried to win back for a while. I remember being at a party and he was always trying to hug me. And I pulled him into a corner and told him: 'I have a lot of respect for you and I think you're a good friend. I don't want to you to humiliate yourself going after me. I know that you still like me, but it won't work. Let's just be friends'".

"How did he take it?"

"He never tried that again. And we tried to remain friends. Didn't work out."

"And when did you regret it?"

"About a year later, I was with a boy I had known for a long time. We started talking again. I was never his girlfriend, officially. But I thought we were exclusive. He didn't. You're already guessing what happened, right?"

"He cheated on you."

"Exactly. Or not, because we never made anything official. It lasted about three months, kinda. And the worst thing was that he never explained anything to me. I found it all out by myself. I went to him, confronted him with what I thought was happening and he admitted to it."

"And what does this have to do with your previous relationship?"

"The part of never explaining anything to me. I did the same thing with Ryan. I broke things off with him and I never told him why. I guess karma is a bitch, right? Yeah, it was different, I never cheated on anyone. But I was still mean to him."

"Did you do something about it?"

"I called Ryan. We hadn't talked in almost a year. I said I knew it had been a long time ago, but that I still wanted to apologize to him because I understood what he had felt. And he was really nice to me, I apologized, and he said everything was fine."

"You went back to being friends?"

"No. I remember telling him a few years later that I wanted to go back to him, but I was glad he was already on another page."

"Why?"

"I really did love him once, I think it was the fact that I saw him acting normal with me, that reminded me of how things were before we dated and why I had fallen in love with him. But nothing good could come out of it."

"It does make sense."

"Then I never spoke to him again. As long as he's happy, that's okay, that's the most important thing."

"And you went back to talking to your 'unofficial boyfriend'?

"We had a friend in common. That's how I met CR. In fact, I became very close to her because, after all, she helped me a lot. Our friendship was the best thing that came from that 'relationship'. And she was talking to him one day, telling him how he should have acted differently, and told him that one day, when he felt ready and if he really wanted to do it, he should apologize."

"He did?"

"He sent me an email full of crap. I realized he didn't feel sorry at all."

"Never heard anything from him again?"

"I heard he had different girlfriends, that he was going to be a father. But as I said earlier, if he's happy, that's all that matters.

"I see you care a lot about the happiness of your ex-boyfriends."

"I may look badass, but I still care about people. I think I really believe in karma, because I've had to deal with it many times. The old story: what goes around, comes around. And when I really like someone, I want them to be happy."

"And you haven't dated since?"

"Something here and there, but nothing serious. You're not going to make me get a boyfriend, are you?"

"No, of course not," said the doctor quickly, "I don't hink it would hurt, but no. I can't help noticing that you haven't dated in a while."

"Please don't turn into my dad." Beca snorted impatiently.

"Does he ask you about boyfriends?"

"Yeah, a lot, actually. But I'm already used to it and I know how to get around the subject. I think that when it happens, it happens."

"Aren't you scared to get your heart broken again?"

"I always think that after Charlie, I would never suffer so much for love. There are people who make us think that no matter how things might go wrong, it's worth it just for the good times. Poetic, isn't it?"

"A poetic thought, indeed. And what do you think makes someone fall in love with you?" Beca smirked. She scratched her head looking for a good asnwer.

"Jesus, am I on a tv show, getting through blind dates?" Chloe laughed and shook her head.

"No, but I'd like to know."

"You're too curious. Dunno. My sense of humor isn't for everyone. But I treat them right, I write a few sappy things. I don't know, honestly."

"Do you think you're ugly?"

"No. I think I'm normal. Dunno. I'm a normal person. Neither pretty nor ugly. I won't even ask you the same question, because I already know the answer."

"You do? What would it be?"

"If you tell me you think you're ugly, I'll introduce you to a good eye doctor. You could be in twenty different magazine covers and I'm not talking about psychology magazines." Chloe blushed slightly and focused her gaze on her own hands.

* * *

First of all, if you didn't notice the chapter's title, the appointment isn't over yet. There's a second part. I was just writing things that actually happened to me and when I finished I had written almost 10,000 words. I guess I'm really good at remembering embarassing situations about my life. I hope you can find them to be a little funny. I think the next chapter will have a nice development in their relationship.

Thanks again to everyone who's following this story and to everyone who reviewed it. It's the first I'm writing a Bechloe story and it has been great so far.


	6. Heartbreaks (Part II)

"Don't tell me you think you're ugly?" Beca asked, shocked. Chloe looked at her again, and the blush on her face became even more noticeable.

"I don't know."

"I thought you were pretty confident about all that."

"I was joking, Beca."

"Well, we've gone out once. I've never seen so many men looking at the same time."

"You're exaggerating."

"Am I? CR couldn't stop talking about you, Jesse too. They were actually pissing me off."

"Seriously?"

"Of course. Didn't you notice anything that night? CR was all over you."

"I didn't notice anything." in fact, the doctor looked surprised.

"Seriously? What did you talk about when you went for a smoke? asked Beca, getting up from her chair with her arms folded across her chest.

"Nothing special."

"Are you sure? Tell me the conversation, I'll tell you if it was special or not."

"She told me that I didn't look like a smoker, that my hair smelled good and that I dressed very well."

"What's the question then?" Beca inquired as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What question?" Chloe looked confused.

"Did she say anything about your eyes? Something like 'oh, you're eyes are really nice, I've never seen anything like them before'. Dunno, something like this."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry you went through that. She thinks she can seduce anyone."

"But she's cute and very interesting. It's good she has all that self esteem."

"Please, let's change the subject."

"You brought the subject up."

"I didn't want those details, Doc. I just wanted the overall picture of things. I don't want to picture CR flirting with you. What a disgusting image."

"So you think I'm not good enough for her?" Chloe asked with a hurt look.

"No, not at all. You're too good for her."

"Too good?"

"Yes, Doc, she wouldn't even know what to do with you."

"Are we talking about sex?"

"Okay, I'm leaving, it was great to relive my teenage years and all my heartbreaks. In about six months I'll show up here again, right after I deal with this trauma."

"I just wanted to know what you were referring to. It sounded like you were talking about sex."

"Would you stop saying ... that?"

"What? Sex?"

"Dude!"

"Do you have a problem with s- that word?"

"No, but it's weird."

"I think it's perfectly natural. Don't you talk openly about it?"

"Of course not! It's an intimate thing. And I'm not talking about you and CR doing it. It creeps me out. It gives me a vomit goosebump."

"A what?"

"You know that shiver, a goosebump you feel right before you throw up? That's it, that's what I call it."

"Were you imagining me having sex with CR?"

"I swear I'll throw up all over your office." Beca threatened, looking around the room.

"You didn't answer me."

"Of course it's disgusting to think about CR having sex."

"About CR?" Chloe asked curiously.

"Yeah, I have known her for a long time. Don't tell me you like to imagine your friends having sex. That's fuc- that's weird, doc. CR doesn't have sex for all I care about."

"I'm sorry for the image. I won't talk about it again."

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart." said Beca, clasping her hands to her chest dramatically. She sat down again and took a deep breath before looking at the psychologist. Chloe looked thoughtful as she smoothed her skirt. She took a deep breath and smiled.

"I think we're done for the day. I've made you feel happy, sad, and finally very nauseous, it seems."

"Yeah, you're worse than a roller coaster."

"It's good to know that I'm beginning to understand your analogies better."

"I'm training your social skills, huh?"

"I guess."

"One day you'll tell me all about your love life." Beca assured her.

"It would be very unethical to do so."

"No one needs to know."

"Still, I doubt you can make me talk about it."

"Is it that dark?"

"No, but I don't want you to forget that I'm the psychologist."

"Of course I won't forget it, Doc," Beca stated, emphasizing the last word.

"Well, I guess we're done or do you want to talk about anything else?"

"It depends, if you have pills for nausea, I can stay a little longer."

"Sorry, I don't."

"I'm leaving, then. Was I your last appointment for the day?"

"You're always my last appointment. But it's not a problem, I always go home in a good mood due to your moments of brilliance."

"Oh, you're spoiling me, Doc. I'm leaving then, my cat needs food otherwise he'll kill me while I sleep and it will take a while for my dad to find my corpse."

"You're a drama queen."

"You don't know what Marty looks like when he's hungry. He becomes a freakin' lion. And what do you do when you get home, besides feeding your dog?"

"It depends. Sometimes I go home, have dinner and a glass of wine while I watch a documentary or a movie."

"Drink a glass of wine? Let me guess, it has to be a good wine, doesn't it?"

"Of course. Beca, before you leave, I just want to make some things clear."

"Tell me, doc."

"I don't really want you to stop thinking of me as your psychologist. I am afraid that if you do, I won't be able to help you. Not that I have no interest in being your friend, but I'm very afraid of losing the psychologist / patient relationship with you. Don't get me wrong, I just don't want you to start thinking I can't help you."

"Since you're starting to understand my analogies, let me make one. My dad used to play football and he knew a lot of people. Referees, players from other teams. But when they entered the field, they all knew their roles. When I meet someone, it takes me a long time to lower my walls. Except for rare cases when I feel an immediate connection and I soon start talking a lot and saying silly things. It was your case. But I don't forget you're my psychologist and I still look at you knowing that you can help me. Don't worry about it. I can separate the waters. Call me the modern Moses."

"I don't want you to get upset with me or to think I don't like your personality or your jokes, I really like them. That's why I'm worried."

"I take you seriously. You always get what I say. Go home, have dinner, drink your glass of wine, and watch anything on television less annoying than a documentary."

"Do you think documentaries are boring?"

"The ones you see? I'm pretty sure they are."

"What kind of documentaries do you think I watch?"

"Dunno, something about psychology or science. Or the Discovery Channel. The kind of programs we see when we don't where we put the tv remote. Did I get it right?"

"Some, yes.

"Okay then, go home. Everything is very clear and you aren't losing your authority or breaking your ethics. I swear." Beca said, clapping her right hand to her chest as if she were making a solemn oath.

"Drama queen, again."

"Oh, you haven't seen the worst yet. Good evening, Doc.

"Goodbye, Beca." Chloe said with a smile. She stared at the door for a while. She packed her notebook, looked around the office, turned off the light, and left. She walked for a few minutes until she reached her car. As she drove, she couldn't stop thinking about Beca's words. In fact, it was good for her not to worry so much from time to time. After all, the girl was pragmatic and discerning. She would certainly remember that at the end of the day she was the patient and Chloe was the psychologist. When Chloe got home, she fed her dog and took a plastic container out of the fridge to immediately put it in the microwave. While the food was heating, she took off her high-heels, tied her hair in a ponytail, and put on a pair of sweatpants. Instead of dining at the kitchen table while reading some psychology article, she turned on the tv and sat down with the food tray resting on her lap. She grabbed the remote and stared at it as if she had never seen anything like that before. She closed her eyes and pressed a random number on the remote. When she looked at the tv, there was a romcom on. She remembered Beca and smiled. Dinner tasted better and she didn't feel so alone in her apartment.

As she opened the door to her apartment, Beca bumped into Marty, who was standing on two legs, begging for a treat.

"You're fuckin' clingy dude. I gotta find you a Jennifer." Beca sneered as she played with the cat. Marty began to purr. When he got tired, he went to the bowl of food.

"I know, you're just using me to get food. I'll give you some tuna just because I'm feeling very happy today." The cat kept staring at her and only moved when he saw Beca picking up a can of tuna and pouring it into his bowl of food. He started to eat as if the world was ending and that was his last meal. Beca laughed and went to heat up her own dinner. She sat down with the plate between her and the computer. She sent some more resumes, checked her email, and browsed through facebook. She had a new message and she was really suprised to see it was a message from Charlie. She gaped at the thought of how small the probability of it happening on the very same day she told Chloe their story.

 _"Hello Beca,_

 _I know I haven't said anything since I thanked you for sending me those old photos. I don't know why but today I wanted to tell you some things, especially because you helped me when I asked you for help and if you hadn't, maybe none of this would happen. I wanted you to know that I'm going to fulfill a dream. I'm going to be a dad. Alice told me about it today and I'm so happy that I almost feel the need to share this with everyone._

 _You helped me a lot when you made me think about the relationship I have with her and how, sometimes, you have to know how to give people a second chance. We've been okay, we hardly fight and she even mentioned that we should get married. I know it may seem weird that I'm telling all this to my ex-girlfriend, but first of all you were my friend and after all, you knew how to still be my friend when I needed one."_

 _It seems like we lived a lifetime in a few years. And it's very difficult to completely erase this, no matter how much I've tried. It's almost as if I stored everything in different files and sometimes I just I blow the dust off and I'm browsing through everything. I skip a lot of things because if I think about them a lot, it still hurts me. Maybe you feel the same way. But I grew up with you, just as I imagine you grew up with me._

 _Anyway, I sincerely hope that everything is fine with you and that you are fulfilling your dreams too. And I hope everything is fine with your family. Send them my greetings._

 _All the best for you._

 _Charlie"_

Beca reread the message several times. Her ex-boyfriend was going to be a dad. She remembered her talk with Chloe and began to wonder if she was happy with the news. She was. For the first time in a long time she began to think that maybe she hadn't lost the love of her life. She lost only one love. A very important love, but only one. And even if he was the love of her life? How many people are lucky enough to have that for the rest of their lives? Not many.

She replied to the message and closed the facebook window. Then she looked at her phone and hesitated. She looked at her watch; it wasn't that late. She picked up the phone and started a new text:

" _To Dr. Beale: I know you gave me your number for emergencies, but I wanted to tell you about what just happened to me. Call it destiny or coincidence, whatever. Today we talked about my love life. You may not believe this, but Charlie sent me a message saying he's going to be a dad. Weird, isn't it? It seems like sometimes you just need to mention someone to bring that person back into your life. I mean, kinda. I thought you might find this interesting. I hope I haven't interrupted any of your annoying documentaries."_

She put down her phone, thinking of many things at once. A few minutes later, as she was getting ready to go to sleep, she heard her phone ringing and picked it up.

" _From Dr. Beale: In fact, it is a very curious thing. Did it make you feel anxious? I imagine it can't be easy to see someone with whom you've planed so many things to move on with another person. Especially with a kid. P.s. Do not worry, I was watching a romantic comedy and I must say I'm very entertained."_

Beca laughed at the final part of the text but when she reread Chloe's words, it almost felt as if the doctor knew exactly what it meant to plan a life with someone and see everything suddenly vanish. She was really curious. There was something else there, something about the psychologist's own love affairs.

" _To Dr. Beale: Do you want to talk about it now or do you want to leave it for the next appointment? Maybe you have something to tell me about planning things with someone. But don't worry, I'm fine. I just thought it was such a coincidence that I had to share it with you. P.s. I'm surprised. Looks like you found the remote today."_

" _From Dr. Beale: We can talk about this at the next appointment. I'm not used to texting and I'm not using our appointments to talk about me. I just wanted to know how you were feeling. I have nothing to tell you, don't forget what I told you earlier."_

"Okay, you're changing the subject," Beca said out loud. "But I have warned you that I'm stubborn, Doc."

" _To Dr. Beale: I was anxious, yes. Because I think you have something going on and you don't want to tell me about it because you're afraid of losing your authority. My analogy didn't work. I am deeply disappointed in myself."_

" _From Dr. Beale: I understood your analogy and I was slightly more rested, but I'm still worried. I can't help it."_

" _To Dr. Beale: I'm starting to think you don't want to be my friend."_

" _From Dr. Beale: On the contrary, and the problem is exactly that. What if we become friends? I can't go on being your psychologist."_

" _To Dr. Beale: If we become friends, I will have someone who is not only my friend, but who can help me with my problem because she is also a psychologist. It's not like I'm paying or anything."_

" _From Dr. Beale: Yes, on one hand you're right. I don't know what to think, honestly. This never happened to me. I already told you that I'm socially awkward."_

" _To Dr. Beale: You're watching a romcom, you changed your routine today. You have to relax a little more. But, if you want to make things more formal..."_

" _From Dr. Beale: What do you mean, Beca?"_

" _To Dr. Beale: Will you be my friend? (imagine you're in elementary school again and I've just given you a note with two squares on it. One has the word "yes" and the other one has the word "no".)"_

" _From Dr. Beale: Is there a third square with the word "maybe" on it?"_

" _To Dr. Beale: It would be funny. But no, this is as linear as possible. Yes or no? And you can't answer me later."_

" _From Dr. Beale: Your imagination sure runs wild. Yes, I want to be your friend."_

" _To Dr. Beale: Really? Are you serious about it?"_

" _From Dr. Beale: I am Beca."_

" _To Chloe: Thank God we're not facetiming each other. Nobody should see the dance moves I've just done. Do you have many appointments tomorrow?"_

" _From Chloe: No, my last appointment ends at 5:30 p.m."_

" _To Chloe: We could have dinner together."_

" _From Chloe: I can't say no, right?"_

" _To Chloe: You already know me so well."_

" _From Chloe: Okay, so be it. Will you meet at my office?"_

" _To Chloe: We have a deal. I'll see you tomorrow,_ _ **Chloe.**_ _"_

" _From Chloe: Good night, Beca."_

As she put down her phone on her bedside table, Beca felt really happy, as if she had just won a gold medal at the Olympics. She did another little dance to the sound of some imaginary song. After brushing her teeth and fixing her hair, she layed in her bed with a big smile, not even thinking about the message Charlie had sent her. And that meant a lot.

* * *

I really have to tell you something. I've been writing everything in portuguese. I'm doing it because that way I'm not thinking about the right words to use, if it's too formal... It comes naturally to me because it's my native language. It was really hard for me to translate this chapter. I had to change many things because I need to remind myself that a lot of things are different in the US. And when I'm writing in portuguese I don't think about it. I never thought I would find it easier to translate cientific things instead of my own writing. It's plain weird.

Thanks again to everyone who's following the story and to everyone who left a review.


	7. Changes

Beca had been sending her resume to a lot of different places. She had a new motivation, as if she had been blocked and suddenly opened her eyes and realized that there was more to life than what she had been doing for the past five years.

Her dad had a strange reaction towards Beca's decision. He understood what his daughter wanted and supported her but he was afraid to see Beca quitting a steady job. But after talking to Sheila and Beca, he ended up trying to help his daughter in any way he could. He kept reminding her of some things she could put on her resume. Of course he wasnt't always helpful: "Dad, I'm not going to put on my resume that I won a spelling bee contest in the 6th year! They're going to laugh at me," said Beca. Her dad was quick to respond "Beca, it could be important. It shows that you care about your past and that you'll be able to write lyrics without any spelling mistakes."

Beca and Chloe's friendship grew stronger as the days went by. Chloe was throwing more jokes at Beca, she had already picked up many of Beca's sarcastic tics and told her some things that were happening to her. Nothing about her patients. In fact, she had an amazing professional ethic. Little by little, Chloe was learning to notice whether Beca was being playful or serious, although she often had some difficulty in reaching a satisfactory conclusion.

She had never had a bad conversation with Chloe. But it could be really painful to relive certain memories. It was hard for Beca to realize that she had stopped doing many things in her life because it wasn't the right time, or because she didn't think she was good enough or even because she thought it wouldn't be worth trying. In the end, she was almost sabotaging herself. Nothing her dad hadn't told her already. There was only one thing holding her back: fear. And now anxiety was added to the mix. It could all be a matter of turning anxiety into a positive thing, almost like an adrenaline rush that forced her to do well, to get the tiniest detail.

The day had come. She couldn't help it. Beca was shaking, her palms were sweaty, and her head looked like a boat lost at sea. She didn't know what to say and the only thought in her head was that in five or ten minutes everything would be over and she could breathe normally again. Almost with her heart in her mouth, Beca raised her right hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in." a voice said from the other side. Beca slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. She entered with her eyes glued to the ground and her feet crawling as if they had a will of their own and didn't want to let her move. As she leaned against the door, she finally looked up. Her boss had his eyebrows raised in surprise, his mouth parted in a very good imitation of a fish out of water.

"Beca, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked, waving his hand for Beca to sit in front of him. She did so and placed her hands on both sides of the chair, afraid of losing her balance.

"I ..." she took a deep breath. "I wanted to talk to you in person to explain my decision. I didn't want to do it through a letter, it would be disrespectful. I won't forget what you've done for me and how you've helped me. I wanted to formally file my resignation." Her boss stared at Beca with the same expression he had when she entered his office. He rubbed his hands together, trying to think about what to say next.

"But did something happen? I'm not gonna lie to you, I wasn't expecting it. I just wanted to know if someone treated you badly or if there was any problem of any kind." He looked genuinely concerned. Beca shook her hand immediatly.

"No, nothing happened. But as you know I got a degree in music which is something I'm really passionate about. I've been working here for a while now. Lately I've had some personal issues and I realized that I'm always avoiding to do what really makes me happy. What I mean by this is that I'm trying to follow a dream that I've been putting off for a long time. I think that if I don't do it now, I may never have a chance again."

"Beca, you know I don't want to discredit you or make you feel bad, but sometimes dreams are just a movie thing."

"But there are people in real life who can make them happen. And even if I can't, I want to be able to sleep at night knowing I've tried everything I could."

"So, you're aware of what you're giving up, right? Your contract, health insurance, all the other perks?"

"Yes. I've already weighed all the pros and cons, but it's like I told you, I have to do this now. If I have to work more hours to leave everything as you want or give someone training, whatever it is, I'll do it with the utmost professionalism. But I really want to resign."

"Were you nervous? Is that why you came in here like you had just seen a ghost?"

"Yeah, actually, I'm still nervous. It isn't easy, but doing the right thing isn't always the easiest."

"I'm sorry to see you go but I know this job is not your dream job and I'm not here to cut off anyone's wings. I know we had our disagreements but you're one of the best employees I have here. I'm going to miss you a lot, I'm not going to lie."

"I really appreciate your words. And, as I told you, if you want me to leave everything in order or anything else, you can count on me."

"I will. I want you to choose a colleague and try to teach them everything you know about this business."

"Consider it done, boss. "

"I hope your dreams come true. And when they do, don't forget to mention me."

"Thank you, sir."

"Back to work then, you have a lot of things to do until the end of the month."

"Thanks." Beca hurried out of the office and took the opportunity to enjoy her morning break. When she reached the entrance, she hurried to light a cigarette and picked up her phone.

"Chloe?"

"Hi, Beca. So how did it go?"

"It's done."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I wanna cry, is it normal?"

"Yes, it's a big change in your life. You're a little afraid of it but you're also feeling a deep sense of relief. If you have to cry, just do it. There's nothing wrong with crying." Upon hearing Chloe's words, Beca couldn't stop her tears anymore. She was crying in the middle of the sidewalk, her cigarette trembling between her fingers.

"It's a pity you're not filming this," Chloe said in an attempt to cheer Beca. She began to laugh through sobs.

"You're starting to look so much like me. I'll send you to my family lunches as a substitute Beca. A wig and some sunglasses and they might not even notice the difference."

"And we're back to normal." Beca laughed again.

"That's enough."

"Do you want to come by the office at the end of your shift so we can talk?"

"Won't I be bothering you?"

"No, I'll finish my last appointment at 4:00 p.m."

"But I only leave at eight o'clock, you won't stay there waiting for me the whole time."

"It's not a problem."

"What would you do if I didn't go there? And tell me the truth."

"I would go home, I guess." Chloe said.

"Then go and if you want we'll go ouf for coffee when I leave."

"Er ... If you want you can come to my house, we can talk there."

"Are you sure?"

"Isn't that something friends do?"

"Yeah. For someone who's always saying she's socially awkward, you're doing very well. Then it's settled, when I leave, I'm going to have dinner and then I'll come by your house."

"If you want, you can have dinner with me."

"My God, who am I talking to?"

"Was I inconvenient?"

"No, not at all. Soon enough you'll have so many friends that you'll be able to start your own book club."

"I see you're already recovered. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Chloe." Beca hung up the phone, took a tissue from her pocket and tried to wipe her face without smearing her makeup. She put out her cigarette and tossed it into a trashcan nearby. She re-entered the building and started completing the request her boss had given her.

When Chloe said goodbye to her last patient, she started pacing around the office looking for her purse and keys. Of course, they were where she had left them, but she couldn't help to feel slightly nervous that Beca was coming to her house. When she got into her car, she tried very hard not to go over the speed limit, not that she could ever do it, anyway. Her body had a barrier that never let her break the rules.

As she arrived home, she parked the car carefully, locking it just before opening the door of her house. She went in and looked around. She thought the house was completely messy. "Okay, I have about three hours until she gets here." She changed into a more comfortable outfit and began to straighten out what, honestly, was already more than neat. An hour after she started, she looked around and still didn't feel completely satisfied. She shook her head almost as if that would guarantee that she was moving away from that thought and began to consider what she would do for dinner. She could order a pizza, she knew Beca would enjoy it, and she would save herself a lot of trouble. But she hated eating unhealthy things. She looked at the pantry and gathered half a dozen ingredients to make dinner. Chloe just hoped Beca wasn't too weird about food.

At around 8.30 pm, the bell rang through the house. Chloe had already changed her clothes again. She was wearing a red blouse with a small v-neck, skinny black jeans and a pair of black leather high heels. When she opened the door she found Beca with a choice of clothing very different from hers. She was in skinny jeans, she'd changed her shoes into white sneakers and wore a simple t-shirt. What caught Chloe's attention was Beca's hair. It was curled and had much less volume. She could already see the earrings and piercings on Beca's ears.

"Hi, Chloe, I don't mean to be rude, but for the love of God, tell me where the bathroom is. I was very close to stopping the car on a curb until I remembered that it isn't very easy for me as it is for a man to pee on the side of the road. All kinds of differents pipes and all, you know." Chloe was surprised at first, but she couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Well, hello Beca. It's down the hall, second door on the left."

"Thanks." She ran off almost knocking down a jar of flowers. Chloe closed the door and finished setting the table. She opened one of her favorite bottles of wine and poured both glasses. Two minutes later, Beca reappeared, her face flushed and her expression more relieved.

"My God. We are told to drink so much water and they forget to tell us to buy a potty. I'm getting bladder problems. On top of that I almost needed a freakin' golf cart."

"A golf cart?"

"Yes, your house is big as hell, I thought I would never get to the bathroom."

"You're exaggerating."

"It is true. But luckily it all went well. Where's your dog?"

"With Aubrey. I was working late all week and I hate to leave him alone. But he'll be back tomorrow."

Oh, I really wanted to meet him." Beca said as she looked at the dinner table for the first time. "What an exquisite dinner."

"It's nothing special."

"Very well, you're earning points in social skills. Cooking dinner for a friend – check!" Beca commented. Chloe shook her head and pointed at one of the kitchen's chairs.

"Sit down." Beca sat down, took the napkin and placed it on her lap. She clasped her hands like a praying mantis and began to whisper something. Chloe looked at her curiously but chose not to say anything. Maybe it was a tradition for Beca to pray before eating. Beca half opened one eye and began to speak louder:

"And please do not let the food be poisoned. I know I'm hard to put up with, but no one deserves to die poisoned with..." she looked at her plate "...something that looks like rice but it's not rice. Amen." When she finished, she immediately got a pat on the arm.

"I thought you were praying!" said Chloe, pouting.

"I was!" Beca argued.

"I don't know much about prayers, but I don't think that was a real one."

"You're no fun."

"And just so you know, the thing that looks like rice is actually quinoa."

"What have I gotten myself into? You look like my cousin with her crazy diets."

"I guess you've never tried it before, right?" Chloe said while pouring some food in Beca's plate.

"Yeah, but don't worry. If I don't like it, I'll tell you."

"I hope so." they started eating and Beca actually liked the food. She was already on the second plate when Chloe changed the subject and asked:

"So, how did the conversation go with your boss?"

"He was very poetic. First he asked me if I was sure. Then I explained my reasons again and he began to say that he understood and that he didn't want to cut off my wings. A beautiful metaphor. In fact, that's what made me cry."

"Do you have to make fun of everything? Those were beautiful words."

"They were! They made me cry."

"You're impossible."

"I love it when you compliment me."

"I know. By the way, I wanted to ask you something else." Chloe confessed. Beca remained focused on the food in front of her, waiting for the psychologist to continue.

"You can just ask the question, you don't have to tell me you're going to do it."

"Did any of the studios get back at you?"

"You looked so serious, I thought you were going to ask me what's the meaning of life."

"If you want, I can ask you that later."

"Don't, I can't answer it without quoting Monty Python a lot. As for your question, I have an interview scheduled for Monday."

"Where?"

"Someplace called 'Residual Heat'. I'm afraid to ask why they decided to name that studio with something that could easily be a title of a porn movie. Let's see what happens." She pushed the plate away and put her hand over her belly. "Jesus, I ate like a freakin' pig."

"You're delightful." Chloe said rolling her eyes.

"That's why I have dozens of men at my doorstep every day." Beca sneered. Chloe started to clean the table when she suddenly noticed a hand grasping hers.

"Nope, don't even think about it. You cooked, I clean. I have manners, you know?"

"Oh, thank you, but I can do it." Chloe said, picking up her plate.

"I already said no. I'll do the dishes. Just tell me where everything is and give me some space. I need creative freedom."

"To clean the dishes?"

"Yeah, it's an art form."

"The soap is in cupboard. Have fun."

"'Course I'm going to have fun. Meanwhile, you just pray that I won't break anything."

"You have to teach me how to pray, you seem to do it very well."

"I always thought you had the potential to be sarcastic, almost as if you had a tiny sarcastic Chloe in your brain, trapped in a cage, begging you for freedom. I never thought you'd let her out so soon."

"A tiny sarcastic Chloe?"

"It's a metaphor, I'm not that stupid about the human body."

"I don't think you're stupid about anything." Chloe said honestly.

"Oh, that's so sweet of you, you deserve a hug," Beca said, approaching the psychologist.

"Never mind, your hands are full of foam."

"What's a little foam between friends?" She came closer to Chloe and hugged her. At first, the psychologist stood still, not knowing what to do. A few seconds later she put her arms around Beca's waist.

"You see, it's not that hard." Beca whispered. "And if you have any spots on your clothes, which I think is highly unlikely, they're about to be exterminated."

"You're not actually touching me, are you?" Chloe asked, afraid of the answer. She didn't have any problems with Beca touching her, but she really liked that blouse.

"'Course not." Beca answered in an unconvincing manner.

"How long is a hug suppose to last?"

"As long as you want it to last, but maybe this is already becoming weird, isn't it?"

"I don't know?" Beca pulled away slowly, and in fact she hadn't laid her hands on Chloe's blouse. She hesitated and placed a light kiss on the psychologist's forehead.

"Turn the TV on or have another glass of wine while I finish doing the dishes." Chloe nodded and took a generous sip from her glass. She didn't turn the TV on. She watched Beca in silence, as if she was studying her. About five minutes later, Beca ran her hands through the water, dried them and drank some wine.

"A penny for your thougts?" Beca said. Chloe seemed distracted.

"What?"

"Is everything okay?" Beca asked getting closer to Chloe.

"Yes, of course."

"C'mon, tell me what's on your mind. You have a weird look on your face."

"You'll think it's ridiculous."

"It wouldn't be the first ridiculous thing I'd see today. You should have seen the tie my boss was wearing. Tell me what's going on."

"I don't really know how to act on certain aspects of a friendship. I don't know when we're supposed to hug someone or comfort them. I mean, I know all this in theory and I know why it's done. But empirically I can't explain it." said Chloe with a sad smile.

"Chloe, there are no guidelines on how to treat friends, it depends on the personality of each person. It depends on the personality of the other person." Beca explained. Chloe had a puzzled look.

"And how do I know that?"

"You're the psychologist, and you're asking me that? Don't take it personally, but I always thought that psychologists and psychiatrists would fully understand all human interactions."

"In theory, yes. Many times we just know what people want to hear. I'm already questioning my job."

"Before you're a psychologist, you're a person like everyone else. You have doubts and fears. You've told me that many times, I'm throwing the words back at you because they also make sense to you." Beca got even closer to Chloe and took the doctor's hand, the one that wasn't holding the glass of wine and stroked it with her thumb. Chloe looked at the gesture and then at Beca's eyes.

"Do you realize why I'm doing this?" asked Beca with a whisper. Chloe nodded, her eyes making contact with Beca's.

"Yes, you're trying to comfort me."

"Exactly. If you were Jesse, for example, maybe I wouldn't do it this way. We don't hug each other."

"And what would you do to comfort him, for example?"

"I would probably pat him on the shoulder, but I would never hold his hand. I'm not a big fan of physical contact."

"Then why are you doing this to me?"

"Once again, it depends on the person. I feel more comfortable with you." Beca was blushing a little bit.

"For being a woman?"

"No, 'course not. It's a matter of knowing how to read people. Are you uncomfortable with me stroking your hand?" Chloe smiled.

"Not at all."

"Okay, but if you were I wouldn't do it again."

"I'm starting to think that I was really lucky to never get patients having trouble making friends."

"I'm sure you'd know what to tell them, even if you didn't know it from experience."

"You really trust my abilities."

"The fact that I notice that my anxiety has decreased a lot is a great proof of your abilities. In friendship there are no mistakes, there is learning. That's the good thing about friends."

"No one ever kissed me on the forehead before. Except my parents, of course."

-No one? Not even a boyfriend?

"Not at all."

"I believe you, you always remember the most unusual things. But...did you get uncomfortable?"

"No, no. I found it kind of odd, maybe."

-That's normal. I do and say a lot of odd things. I'm not worried about it." She kissed Chloe's forehead again. "Is it still odd?"

"A little bit?" started the unsure psychologist. Beca gave her another kiss. Chloe smiled.

"And now?"

"Less odd, I guess."

"Practice makes things perfect." Beca kissed her again and went to the couch. "With your permission," Beca said, before sitting down. Chloe followed her and chose the armchair instead. She turned the television on. There was a dance contest on.

"I would suck at this, I have two left feet." Beca said with a smirk.

"I'm sure you wouldn't."

"I would be going to the emergency room with a dislocated hip, that's all."

"I think you can do far more than you say."

"Oh, really? Like what, for example? Beca asked, intrigued.

"I'm pretty sure you can dance. You should also be very good at playing sports. And you have not yet let me read anything you've written, but it must be a pleasant reading."

"Well, if you want I have my notebook with me. I mean, it's in the car."

"You don't need to go to the car now, it's cold."

"Thank you for encouraging me to exercise. I'll be right back." Beca rose from the sofa and left the house. She came back a minute later with a notebook in her hand.

"I thought you'd use your computer to write."

"There's nothing like writing on a sheet of paper. Choose a page randomly and good luck." Beca said extending the notebook to Chloe. The psychologist took it and stared at Beca as she turned the pages. Seconds later she stopped at one.

"Can I read out loud? Chloe asked. Beca rolled her eyes.

"If it makes you happier."

"October 3rd, 2011",Chloe started _"I no longer think of you every day. I can't remember you as easily as I used to. I don't dream about you every night anymore. You stand behind one of the many doors that lead to nowhere and occupy space in my head. It's a room I can't clean. It's full of things that were important once and that have no meaning now. But whenever I open that door and turn on the light, I feel the same infinite anguish that comes with your name. The air thickens and I can't breathe sometimes. I stand in the doorway, looking around the room. Sometimes I'm a masochist. I sit in a corner, with my head craddled between my knees and my hands trembling on the floor._

 _You'll always have that effect on me. No. You will always have an effect on me. Sometimes we try so hard to forget someone and the only thing we forget is to remember that person. That was the only thing I did. I forgot to remember you. I climbed a bench and put you on a very high shelf just so I didn't fall into the temptation of going to see you every day. But sometimes I get on that same bench and I'm perched on the edge of the bookshelf, with my eyes on you._

 _I lost count of the number of things I wrote you. I have the texts scattered around the house as I have the small pieces I keep from you. You're in my old notebooks, in the backpacks I no longer use, in the records I no longer listen to. You are in the dozens of pens that went out of ink just from repeating your name along a white page._

 _I can only blame myself and you can only blame me. Of all the times I had to close other doors in the depths of my brain, I opened that one to remind myself that I had already done the most difficult thing; leave you behind. And yet I let myself be caught by the suffocating weight of those memories, as if everything had just collapsed before my eyes._

 _I hear your voice from time to time, but I don't always realize that I'm hearing it. I keep you away from me, on that same shelf where I put you and from where you have a privileged view of everything I do and everything I am. But the most important thing was realizing the reason for all the texts, all the excruciatingly painful moments. Everything I have talked about you and about us has led me to the conclusion that there're things that can never be explained with words._

 _Whenever I need to empty my head, I go into that room. I put two or three things together and decide to get rid of them because deep down you don't need me anymore. I also had to forget how much I missed you. And then I end up putting everything back in the same place, like I've ruined your things. I look once more at the room, with my hand on the doorknob, and realize that, deep down, I will never be able to forget you completely. We never forget who really was important in our lives. We never forget those we once loved as if our existence depended on it. We never forget, even if we insist on not remembering."_

Beca avoided looking at the psychologist. Her eyes were fixated on the carpet, as if she had found a coin or a strange footprint. When she dared to look at Chloe, she saw her carefully wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse.

"Okay. Either the text was very bad or you related to it." concluded Beca. Chloe bit her lip for a second, "You don't have to tell me. I know how those stories can be painful. I mean, you already know my love life completely."

"Is this related to Charlie?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling. Beca nodded.

"Yeah, it is."

"But this was written long after you broke up, right?"

"I've always been writing texts about him or to him, even if I had no intention of giving them to Charlie. I also wrote him a lot of lyrics and stuff. It helped me cope with things, I guess." Beca explained, shrugging her shoulders and taking another sip of her wine.

"So, it's still hard for you to talk about this?"

"It isn't. Let me think of an analogy. Okay, imagine that you hurt yourself. You have that whole healing process. And you might not, because I can't imagine you doing that, but there are people who insist on not letting a wound heal. They are constantly taking the scab off, they don't let the wound get air. Lots of stuff. Even so, after a while, it eventually heals. You have scars that you notice a little more and others you barely see. Usually the ones you notice, come from deeper wounds, you had to be stitched, I dunno. Charlie is almost like a deep wound. I have a very large scar but it doesn't hurt. It's there. When I look at it I go back to the moment when I hurt myself and that's the memory that hurts. I don't know if it was a good analogy, but I think you get it."

"Yes, it made a lot of sense. You have a way of explaining things."

"I think you've identified with my story again. Why are you so afraid of telling me your story? Are you afraid of telling someone, or is it just that you have trouble digging through memories?"

"How can you be so sure there's a story?"

"Dunno. Call it instinct. I'm not wrong."

"No."

"If you don't want to tell me the story, I'm not going to be upset. I'm kidding, I don't want to pressure you at all."

"I never told the story out loud, I never had anyone to listen to it. Besides Bree, of course. But she really hates this story."

"I'm here. Try me." assured Beca. Chloe looked at her for a few seconds until she sighed deeply in resignation.

"Well, this happened when I went to college." Chloe began and Beca winced immediatly.

"That's the beginning of every bad story."

* * *

Okay, let me explain a few things. In the movies, we get the idea that Beca doesn't enjoy physical contact. I relate to a lot of things in Beca's personality. I think she's not very good at dealing with her feelings, maybe she's afraid of showing them because it will make things awkward or just because she isn't used to them. But I don't mind hugging some people, it depends on the relationship I have with them. Beca feels at ease with Chloe. I think the biggest AU here is Chloe's personality. In the movies she's always ready to hug someone (mostly Beca), and she's also bubbly and happy. Chloe is a bit different in my story. Not like she's completely different from the movies, she just hasn't got there yet. She's a backstory which you'll get to know in next chapter.

Thank you again for all your kind words and for following the story. It means a lot, no sarcasm here.


	8. Losers

"When I went to college, I had only had one boyfriend. We were sixteen. When I started college I decided to completely focus on getting my degree. I was studying all the time. It was my routine. My parents didn't spend a lot of time with me, but they always encouraged me to go out and meet people. My teachers would call me them to school worrying about me being alone all the time. I never gave it much thought. I was studying and I created an imaginary book of rules and obligations that I had to follow. I would feel bad if I didn't." Beca nodded without taking her eyes off Chloe. The psychologist went back to her story:

"I had a favorite subject. It was a mixture of anatomy with psychological behaviors. My teacher spoke very well, he made some jokes and he liked to discuss our opinions. At first, I was very angry because I thought that everything written in books was the real deal. Books couldn't be contradicted. So, I had many fighs with him. And this lasted until the beginning of my sophomore year. Then one day he called me to his office. He told me he wanted to talk to me, that it made no sense to call my parents because I was an adult, obviously. But the conversation didn't go the way I imagined it would." Chloe looked down almost as if she was ashamed of something.

"He ... did he hurt you?" asked Beca, afraid of knowing the answer. Chloe shook her head.

"No. I mean, in hindsight, he did. But if you're wondering if he did something against my will, no. We were talking and I could empirically prove how one can go from hatred to love in a matter of minutes."

"Did you- I mean, did... you know?"

"Did we have sex?" Chloe suggested. Beca nodded with a slight blush covering her cheeks.

"Yeah."

"Not that day. We just kissed. However, it all started that day. I began to find him much more interesting, I was behaving like a teenager would. I was in some sort of relationship."

"A relationship no one knew about, right?" Beca guessed.

"Exactly. He always told me that he was waiting for me to finish college so we could be together, that he imagined a future for us, that we had very similar ambitions and interests. And he also told me that I was the most beautiful student he had ever had."

"Got one thing right." Beca whispered. Chloe focused her eyes on Beca again.

"What did you say?"

"A lot of beautiful words, right?" Beca said, glad that Chloe didn't get what she said before.

"Yes, indeed, he always knew what to say. As I was finishing the second year, I found out he was married, had children, and had no intention of leaving his wife for me."

"And then what happened?"

"I went to a different college, not that I needed to because he went to work abroad. But being in that place where everything reminded me of someone I completely gave myself to, it hurt. So I moved out of college, fortunately nobody knew anything and that's my story."

"Did you want to be with him?"

"No, I know it now. But it was very complicated at the time. I had put our plans in my little book of rules and obligations. Then I didn't know what to do. I wasted some time until I could help myself."

"Fucking idiot"

"Language." Chloe warned. Beca clenched her fists.

"Sorry. You've never seen him again?"

"Unfortunately, I see him frequently at some conferences."

"And it's hard for you, of course."

"It makes me look at him and wonder why there are so many people who can deceive others, create expectations even though they will never fulfill them."

"Crappy people."

"Not the term I would use, but it works."

"I'm sorry if I made you talk about something complicated."

"l think it's good for me to talk about this. It's like…

"Are you feeling a bit more relieved?" Chloe smiled at Beca before answering.

"Yes, something like that."

"Come here." Beca said, tapping her hand on the couch. Chloe left the chair and sat next to Beca, who immediately took her hand as she had done in the kitchen before. But then she pulled the psychologist into a sort of half-hug. Chloe had her head on Beca's right shoulder while Beca had an arm behind the psychologist.

"Are you uncomfortable?" asked Beca. The doctor whispered a "no" and got a kiss on the top of her head.

"We don't need to talk about it any more unless you want to. I don't like to talk about people who have no idea of what being human means. And I thought I had awful ex-boyfriends.", she grabbed the glass of wine and gave it to Chloe dramatically. "Here, you've won the cup." She felt Chloe's shoulders slightly shaking, and for a moment Beca feared she'd gone too far. However, when she looked at Chloe, she saw the doctor laughing, with the glass pressed to her chest as if it was indeed a cup.

"It's the first time I've won a cup in my life."

"We're on the same boat."

"Thanks, Beca. Not only because you've heard my story but also for realizing I needed to be comforted. I must have wrinkled your shirt by now."

"Chloe, it's me. I don't iron my clothes."

"A bad habit."

"Come on, let's watch TV. I wanna see if anyone falls."

"You're mean." Chloe didn't stop smiling and they saw the rest of the show exactly in the same weird hug.

It was almost midnight when the show ended. Beca hadn't realized Chloe had fallen asleep. She was more focused on the dance steps. She removed her arm from around Chloe's shoulders very carefully and stood up slowly, dropping the psychologist on the couch. She looked around, not quite sure why, until she looked down at a neatly folded blanket in one of the chairs. She debated with herself whether or not she should wake her friend. She was sure Chloe wasn't used to sleeping on a couch. But the couch seemed nice, it was comfortable, and the psychologist looked very relaxed. Beca unfolded the blanket, trying not to smash anything into the ground, and put it over Chloe, reminding herself to place one end of the blanket under the psychologist's feet so it wouldn't fall out of place.

She grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned off the tv. The house was completely silent. There was only the sound of cars passing outside, and the sound of a clock that was placed near the telephone. Not quite sure why, she sat down again, this time in the armchair where Chloe had read her text, and stared at the psychologist. Beca began to get overcome by images of a faceless man. At the same time she imagined Chloe slightly younger, with her hair a little shorter and messier. She imagined them talking, watched Chloe's eyes light up at the words the man was uttering. She saw them clasping their hands together, and when she was about to imagine them kissing each other, she shook her head and pushed that image away.

As she looked again at Chloe, she couldn't help thinking how deeply unfair it was to have no friends. Not that it was unfair only to her, but also to all the people who didn't have the chance to meet someone like Chloe. She felt genuinely lucky, as if someone had offered her a lottery ticket and, oddly enough, she had won the first prize.

But Beca's thoughts kept running wild inside her head. She began to think of everything that brought her to Chloe. How had it been possible to choose her name from a list of more than twenty psychologists? At that moment Beca could already be at home, with Marty asleep in her lap as she was dreading another visit to a weird psychologist, with twenty notebooks containing an endless number of details about Beca's life. No, she was at her former psychologist's home, now a friend, who had shared with her perhaps the most important story of her life.

Chloe stirred in her sleep and Beca paused to think about what she would say if she woke up. "Yes, I'm looking at you while you're sleeping, it's a perfectly normal behavior amongst friends." But Chloe didn't wake up and seemed to be smiling in her sleep.

"I take it you're not dreaming about that son of a bitch." Beca decided not to stretch her luck and started picking up her things to go back home. She turned off all the lights and started tiptoeing towards the front door, as if she was a ballerina in the "Nutcracker" or the "Swan Lake". As she was about to turn the doorknob, she heard a noise and saw Chloe with her eyes half open.

"Are you leaving?" she asked, her voice slightly husky.

"Yeah, I didn't wanna wake you. You looked very peaceful."

"Is there another any way to sleep?"

"Well thought. So, now that you're awake you can go to your room. I don't want you having any back pain tomorrow. And you can lock the door, which is really good." Chloe got up, rubbed her eyes, and walked towards Beca.

"Thank you for worrying so much about me."

"That's what friends do, Chloe. Of course I worry about you."

"And to think I was afraid to be your friend."

"I knew we would be really fast friends. It's so good to be right."

"You really were. Thanks for everything."

"Thank you, it looks like I built you a swimming pool or changed a lamp in your office. I just want you to be okay."

"I'm very well. I mean, sleepy, but well. But if the offer to change the lamp in my office stands, I won't say no. I'm a mess with those things."

"Call me and I'll bring my toolbox. And now go to sleep, you're very out of your routine."

"I'm beginning to think that routine can be very boring."

"And you're right, my friend. You need surprises in life, otherwise it's all too boring."

"You surprised me."

"Damn, I don't know where to put so many compliments. I don't have enough pockets in my coat."

"Stop being sarcastic about everything. Will you text when you get home?"

"Sure, but you'll be asleep by then. And it would be awful if the first thing you read in the morning was my text."

"That's a good way to start my day." Beca squinted her eyes, trying to understand the meaning of those words. She moved closer to Chloe and wrapped her arms around her again. This time she didn't leave her hands in the air, she tightened her arms around Chloe's waist. When they parted, Beca adjusted the backpack on her shoulder.

"Good night", she said at last. Chloe didn't answer right away. She moved closer to Beca and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good night, Beca." The young woman heard the door closing behind her but didn't even look back. She rushed to her car trying to hide the blush in her face, even though nobody was watching her.

Chloe folded the blanket and put it back in the chair. She didn't have to do anything in the kitchen; Beca left it spotless. As carefree as she was, Beca shared with Chloe a taste for perfectionism.

The house was silent, as if that night hadn't gone beyond a mere imaginary construction coming from Chloe's mind. But upon remembering her conversation with Beca, Chloe felt happy, as if she had achieved one of the most important goals of her life; have a friend besides Aubrey. She'd always thought she wouldn't share the story of her greatest love with anyone, as if it wasn't a story worth telling. It was curious how Beca was interested in people's stories. A conversation they had in a cafe once came to Chloe's mind, when an old woman walked in and sat down alone with a bundle of letters. Beca stared at the lady with deep curiosity. And then she began to ramble over the woman's supposed life story. That she might be reading family letters, reading love letters she had received at another time in her life, or even things she had written and kept in a drawer because she wasn't brave enough to send them. Chloe was surprised, to say the least. Beca apologized for daydreaming and focused again on the conversation they were having before the lady entered the cafe.

Chloe stood in the middle of the room for a few minutes. When she came back to reality, she walked down the hallway towards the bathroom. She had a quick shower, put her nightgown on and tied her hair. She lay down on her bed, and pulled the duvet over until her shoulders were covered. She rolled over in bed for a while not being able to fall asleep. Though sleep already weighed on her eyelids, she was feeling uneasy. She heard her phone ringing and she grabbed it as fast as she could. It was a text from Beca:

" _From Beca: Doctor Beale, I'm already in my royal quarters. Marty wishes you a good night, and so do I. Thank you for dinner and for trusting me with such a complicated story. When you think about it, remember that he was the one who lost. Everyone who doesn't have you in their lives is a loser. And if you're reading this in the morning, good morning!"_

When she finished reading the text, Chloe realized she was crying. She wiped away the tears and smiled as she reread the text. She put her phone down, and as soon as she leaned her head back on the pillow, she fell asleep.

* * *

So, you finally know what happened to Chloe. I'm sorry it took me a while to update the story but I had to record some videos and I didn't have time to finish this chapter. There're a lot of mistakes in this one but everytime I look at it I think "maybe it's not that bad even though it sounds a bit weird when I read it out loud."

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed it and thank you for your all kind comments and messages.


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